


lightning & the thunder

by WeeBeastie



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, disgusting cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeBeastie/pseuds/WeeBeastie
Summary: i was dreaming of bigger things, wanna leave my own life behindthunder, feel the thunder, lightning & the thunder[a porny little ficlet to celebrate reaching 200 tumblr followers]





	lightning & the thunder

**Author's Note:**

> A big THANK YOU to everyone who made this possible! Thank you all for sticking by me, for reading and liking and reblogging, for recommending and complimenting - for everything. When I say y'all are the best, I truly mean it.
> 
> This is a bit of vaguely season 3ish smut that I hope is a decent enough gift. <3
> 
> Title and lyrics in the description borrowed lovingly from "Thunder" by Imagine Dragons.

The night starts like any other: Silver makes supper for the men, for himself and Flint. Everyone eats, drinks. Laughs and talks. All evening, though, Silver can feel Flint's eyes on him, can feel him...watching. The already palpable tension between them has ratcheted up to the point that Silver feels distinctly tingly all over, and he keeps squirming in his seat because the way Flint's looking at him is getting him hard.

He hopes beyond hope that he's not misreading those glances. After everyone's gone to bed and Flint has retired to his quarters alone, Silver steels himself and goes to his captain's cabin. He doesn't knock, just lets himself in and shuts the door behind him. Flint is seated at the desk with a book open in front of him, but Silver can tell by the tension in his body and the heat in his gaze, when he looks up, that he's not really been reading.

“Captain,” Silver begins, inexorably drawn toward Flint. He makes his way to him slowly, feeling unsteady in a way that has nothing to do with his false leg or the sea rocking beneath him. 

Flint stands from the desk and rounds it, leaning back against it with his arms folded over his chest. “Silver.”

Silver takes another few steps toward him. He stands but a hairsbreadth from him, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. After a pregnant pause he seizes the moment, putting his hands on either side of Flint's face and pulling him down into a kiss, nearly lunging at him.

Their faces quite literally meet. Silver's nose glances off Flint's, their foreheads crack against one another, and their teeth meet with such force that Silver's ears ring. He stumbles back with a groan of pain and hears Flint swearing a blue streak.

“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing his forehead with the back of one hand. That was not how he'd been expecting that to go.

“Let's try that again,” Flint offers softly. He steps up to Silver and pulls him in close, and when they kiss this time, it's much more pleasure and far less pain. Silver leans into Flint, feeling their bellies press together and their hips meet. To his great delight, Flint is already hard, too.

Silver pulls back to start unbuttoning Flint's shirt, trembling faintly with excitement. Flint untucks Silver's shirt from his trousers, but as he yanks it off over his head, Silver feels it get caught. It's bunched up around his ears, and some of his hair has gotten caught on the buttons.

“Ow, ow, _stop_!” he yelps, pulling away from Flint and disentangling himself from his shirt, casting it aside irritably once he's got it off. 

Flint just smirks at him and Silver laughs a little, finding the humor in how utterly wrong all this is going so far. Flint offers his hand and Silver takes it, following him to the bed - carefully. He sits on the edge of the bed and Flint kneels in front of him, reaching out to help Silver take off his prosthetic. He pulls the leg of his trousers up and out of the way, looking at Silver reverently.

Then Flint's fingers are on the sensitive skin of the back of his calf, near the bend of his knee, and Silver makes a decidedly undignified noise and jerks away from his touch.

“What? Is something wrong?” Flint asks, wisely sitting back so that Silver, in all his flailing, doesn't catch him in the chest or face with his iron foot.

“No, no, I'm sorry, just-- your fingers tickle,” Silver says, licking his lips and looking down at Flint. He's never had such an awkward encounter in his adult life, and he hopes Flint isn't about to give up on the whole idea. He wouldn't really blame him if he did, though.

“My fingers tickle,” Flint echoes, deadpan, as Silver hurriedly unstraps the boot from his stump and casts the leg aside, then shimmies out of his trousers. “I must say, of all the ways I imagined this going…” Flint says under his breath, getting to his feet and unbuckling his belt. Once he's down to just his breeches, he joins Silver in bed.

Silver rolls over on top of him, thinking finally, and immediately catches one of Flint's knees in his ribs. He makes a quiet noise of pain but soldiers bravely on, leaning down to taste Flint’s lips again.

“Fucking hell,” Flint pants when he pulls back, slipping a hand into Silver's breeches and making him groan from deep in his chest. “Are you always so clumsy in bed?”

“I was about to ask you the same. I am usually quite skilled in bed, thank you,” Silver says bitingly, leaning over Flint to reach the vial of oil on his nightstand. Flint's hand has started stroking him in earnest and he can feel his eyes crossing; just the touch of Flint's hand on his cock is enough to drive him wild. He can't wait to be inside him.

In short order they're both completely naked, Silver taking a moment to admire Flint's freckle-adorned body (“an artist couldn't have placed them better,” he breathes) before oiling his fingers and easing one inside. He works him open quickly but thoroughly, thanking his lucky stars that nothing goes amiss while he does so.

Once he's certain Flint is prepared, he spreads a little more oil on himself and presses into him slowly, gasping at the sensation of Flint's body giving way to his own. Flint is so hot and tight inside, and his fingers are digging into Silver's biceps like to bruise. It feels--

“Could you…?”

“What if I…?”

He thrusts a few times, experimentally, but somehow it just doesn't feel right. He's about to spiral down into a pit of despair, feeling deeply woeful that this isn't working out the way he'd always imagined it would, when Flint grunts and pushes on his chest, hard, with both hands.

He sits up abruptly, finding himself with a lapful of eager, determined Flint. He's straddling Silver now, and as his muscular thighs begin working to raise and lower himself on Silver's cock, Silver is pretty fucking sure he sees the face of God and hears a chorus of angels singing.

“Oh, oh,” Flint whimpers in his ear, and forget angels singing, that's the most euphonious sound Silver's ever heard. He wraps his arms around Flint and digs his fingers into his back, burying his face in his neck and groaning his exquisite pleasure against his skin.

“Fuck, Captain, my _god_ , you're so beautiful,” he babbles helplessly, fucking up into him, hips snapping. Finally, finally their bodies have figured out how to fit together, and Silver knows instantly that he's ruined for anyone and everyone else. Nothing could possibly compare to the lightning striking him and Flint here, now. 

“Silver,” Flint breathes, grinding down against him, and _oh_ that ought to be illegal. He threads his fingers in Silver's wild curls and yanks his head back. Their eyes meet and Silver can feel himself grinning stupidly, unable to do anything but thrust up into Flint and revel in the sensations of their bodies ebbing and flowing seamlessly together.

Before long he can feel Flint tensing up around him and in his lap. He wraps a hand tenderly around his cock and strokes him, watching his face, needing to see. His eyes roll back in his head and, while Silver watches, he comes over Silver's fist and between their bodies, coating their stomachs with his release.

Silver pushes up into him once, twice more, and then feels his orgasm slam into him like a massive wave, making him see stars as he spends himself gloriously inside Flint's welcoming body.

He slumps over backward as he shudders through the aftershocks, smiling lazily up at Flint. Flint, who has his chin to his chest, his eyes half-closed, open fists resting on his arresting thighs. He's flushed pink under his freckles, from his heaving chest all the way up to his ears, and Silver has never seen something so utterly gorgeous.

“Well, I’d say we did ourselves justice, here, once we finally worked out exactly how to do it,” Silver says hoarsely, and Flint snorts above him.

“It was worth the pain and awkwardness, I agree,” he says quietly. He pulls off Silver and settles down next to him, face tucked into the curve of his neck, one arm draped across Silver's chest in a way that seems almost possessive. It makes Silver's skin hum with pleasure.

“It won't be so awkward next time,” he says confidently, and he can feel Flint smiling against his skin.


End file.
